


That Time Cannot Erase

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Current Environment Is Safe and Supportive, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Inner Child Healing Work, Minor Finn/Rey (Star Wars), Past Child Abuse, Past Injury, Past Verbal Abuse, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Protective Finn, Rey Needs A Hug, Space Mom Harter Kalonia, Team as Family, The Resistance As A Family, thankfully past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: Rey’s attempt to hide her injury during the fight with the Praetorian Guards brings up memories she’d prefer to forget.





	That Time Cannot Erase

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Hiding An Injury/Illness
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Trigger warning for past emotional abuse. Title from Evanescence’s “My Immortal”.

  
“How did you get your shoulder cut anyway?”  
  
Rey blinked at Finn even as she sat in the main hold with him. “I...don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.   
  
“That...thing on your shoulder. That slash. You know...” Finn gestured towards his left shoulder as if to accentuate his point.   
  
Now that she thought about it, perhaps her shoulder was throbbing, at least a little. It was nothing. She’d gotten her share of nicks as a scavenger. She couldn’t afford to actually feel pain, to really notice — slowing down was weakness. Rey was many things, but she wasn’t about to go quietly because of something that likely didn’t matter.   
  
“It’s just a little cut,” Rey said. “It’s nothing.”  
  
Finn didn’t look like he believed her. “What if it gets infected?”  
  
That was a solid point. That was the only time Rey could afford to pay attention to her injuries — if they could actually get worse.  
  
***  
  
“You were hiding that ever since you got back from Snoke’s ship?” Finn said.   
  
Rey nodded. She winced a little as Kalonia, the medic, applied bacta to it, but said nothing. When she had been a youngling, she’d injured herself, and Plutt — well, saying he treated the situation like it was an inconvenience to him was definitely one way to put it.   
  
_“I don’t want the stingy stuff!” Rey protested. She’d been six then, and even the idea of having painful medical ointment (stingy stuff, she’d called it in her mind) was something that scared her even more than the injury.   
  
Unkar growled. “You’re going to take it whether you want to, you little schutta. You wanna cry? I’ll show you something to cry about...” _  
  
“You okay?” Finn’s voice jarred her back to the present. Right. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. Sometimes she felt like one, trapped within the prison of a teenage girl who’d had to grow up too soon.   
  
“Yeah.” Rey still couldn’t say she was used to that question. She’d been used to bad treatment. Even thought that she’d deserved it at some points. When Luke and Kylo had mistreated her, she had effectively been that little girl again, trying to understand how she could make Plutt happy.   
  
When had been the last time someone had even patched her up, like a parent would, without seeing it as a personal affront? What had Yoda said? “You must unlearn what you have learned”? Apparently, Rey had a lot to unlearn. (In a way, so had Luke and Kylo. Luke and Kylo had been taught to be cruel; they hadn’t been born with a desire to hate people wanting to help them)  
  
“There,” Kalonia said. “Good as new. You — you try avoid getting into scrapes like this in the future, okay?”  
  
Rey raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we at war?”  
  
Kalonia shrugged. “I did say ‘try’. I know you make no promises. Especially since disaster seems to like you.”  
  
“Thank you,” Rey said. She looked from Finn to Kalonia as she spoke. “For that.”  
  
Kalonia’s amused expression faded to a more serious look. “Listen, um...”  
  
“Rey,” Rey said.   
  
“Right. Rey. You don’t have to thank me. I’m here to treat my patients. First, do no harm. It’s one of the main principles of medics.”  
  
Rey shrugged. “If Finn wasn’t worried about me...”  
  
Kalonia chuckled. “I’ve had people come in here for lesser. And honestly? Compared to the stuff I’ve seen in the field of battle, you have no idea how much it’s a relief when someone comes in here with a stubbed toe.”  
  
“People actually do that?” Rey said incredulously.   
  
“They do. And of course, you get the types like Mr. Got-Slashed-Up-By-A-Lightsaber-On-The-Back,” Kalonia said, gesturing to Finn, “Who thought his back and shoulder injuries weren’t a big deal. Those are the ones I really worry about.”  
  
Finn looked annoyed. “If Rey wasn’t — ”  
  
“I know,” Kalonia said, gently. “I admire your loyalty. My only complaint is that you should have rested first. Lightsaber wounds aren’t anything to flinch at.”  
  
Finn looked genuinely surprised. Then, “Back when I was a stormtrooper...people like Phasma didn’t care about that.”  
  
Rey should have been more prepared for that revelation about Finn’s childhood. Instead...if there was a hell, she hoped Phasma was suffering for all eternity in it.   
  
“You were just a youngling,” she said.   
  
“They didn’t really care,” Finn said. “I was never subjected to that, but I know others who were.” He sighed. “I didn’t have time to go back and free them. But once we’re back in the fight...well, I’ll get them out of there. They’ll be free.”  
  
Rey smiled over at him. “I’ll go with you. I promise.”  
  
Whatever it took, the First Order would never split them up again.   
  
***  
  
Sleep was difficult. Sleep was always difficult. Even picturing the island was dangerous, even if Luke Skywalker was dead now. She could still hear Kylo, on the other end of their connection, a yawning maw of grief. She could mourn for him, all he could have been, but it didn’t mean that what he had done was okay. Compassion, yes, but definitely not forgiveness.   
  
She focused, this time around, on a little girl. Pictured the little girl with her hair in three buns, huddled in the corner of the backroom in Plutt’s kiosk. She couldn’t take the little girl away until she was ready. She could only tell her the truth, hope for a better future.   
  
_“You did nothing to deserve it. Plutt’s a pathetic man who thinks picking on a youngling makes him tougher. I know you think no one’s there for you. But I am. Always.” _  
  
She couldn’t rewrite history. But Rey knew, simply knew, that she could at least have hope, not that the adults who mistreated her would learn they were wrong, but for herself.


End file.
